


Give Me More

by iwillpaintasongforlou



Series: The Rainbow Cookie [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Give Me Truths timestamps, Kidfic, Light Bondage, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, kinda a mixed bag tbh lots of smut and fluff both, proposal fic, wedding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/iwillpaintasongforlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After one year of waiting for more in the Give Me Truths verse, finally it's here. Featuring an epilogue, brief character bios, deleted scenes, and timestamps from the boys' futures.</p><p>NOTE: all chapters of this work are intended as a sequel to my previous work, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1712528/chapters/3646886">Give Me Truths</a>. You'll need to read that first for these to make sense! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 365 days in the waiting, your bonus material is here! Your patience is astounding and --I hope-- at long last, well-rewarded. First up is just a short epilogue telling the overarching plot of what goes on in the boys' futures, after GMT ends. Hope you enjoy!

Louis, after getting accepted to one of London’s best grad programs in counseling, goes on and gets his degree and works in private practice. He focuses on troubled kids, those in danger of failing academically or heading towards jail, aiming to help them turn their lives around and find better paths to happiness before it’s too late. He changes the lives of countless people that way. He never forgets any of their names.

Harry changes his major from business to English, the one thing he’s always been passionate about. He spends the rest of his uni years curled up on his and Louis’ couch poring over classic literature and twisting his curls around absentminded fingers. Louis spends the rest of Harry’s uni years peeling Harry’s forehead off his keyboard late at night when he’s fallen asleep writing yet another research paper. He and Niall eventually wind up teaching side by side in adjoining classrooms at a school on the outskirts of London, and hallway C has never been the same.

They get married, and thanks to Louis’ flourishing practice wind up adopting a boatload of little ones, two girls and two boys. Harry takes Sammie, Will, Daniel and Autumn with him to the school where he works and puts them in the daycare there while he teaches until they’re old enough to go to school themselves. They’re smart as whips and mischievous as Louis (times ten) which makes for lots of good stories when they all go home to see Papa at the end of the day.

Louis’ lifelong dream of seeing Thomas in a maximum security prison or perhaps burning in the fiery pits of hell never comes true. He goes through with law school, but his criminal record and explosive temper prevent him from ever moving up from his position as a mediocre attorney at a mediocre copyright law firm-- which Louis supposes is about as close to hell as you can find in middle class London. They run into him one day at the mall, years later, as he’s standing in line at the coffee kiosk. He looks at Harry with a surprised expression and offers a mumbled ‘hello.’ Harry echoes with the same and keeps walking past, and then buys ice cream cones for his loving husband and four beautiful children. He doesn’t look back.

Niall and Zayn, in their quiet sort of tranquility, just stay together without ever considering breaking up. Why would they give it thought when they’re so perfectly content?  Niall teaches music to little kids with shining eyes and Zayn creates beautiful art that he puts in galleries all over London. They never really talk about the future, just take things as they come. One day Zayn says I love you. Niall just smiles and says it back, and it's that simple. It isn’t until they’re pushing thirty that Zayn's mum starts harassing him about a proper family and he laughs and buys a ring and gets down on one knee for a perfectly sappy proposal. Niall cries, says yes, and they have a quiet wedding with just family and close friends that next fall. They adopt a little girl named Amara and love her to pieces, surrounding her with as much music and art as her little heart can stand.

Liam is the single guy in their little group for a long time, having the time of his life working as a city planner by day and soaking up London’s rowdier scene by night-- when no one needs Uncle Liam’s delighted babysitting services, that is. One day he meets a girl at work and he never thought it was possible, but apparently it’s true that you can find love at first sight. A few months later she comes to him with shaking hands and a pregnancy test with a plus sign on it and Liam pops the question on the spot. He's terrified to be a dad right up until the moment he holds his newborn son Jacob in his arms. After that, he just feels the overwhelming sensation that this is where he’s meant to be.

Hair turns grey. Faces get wrinkled. Truths keeps coming.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up will be character bios, then deleted scenes, then future timestamps, then.... *whispers* a Ziall companion fic I'm in love with ;) Stay tuned!
> 
> Canonlarry | tumblr


	2. Character Bios

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are some brief character bios for all the speaking characters in Give Me Truths! Most of this is pulled from my original notes (I had nineteen pages of typed notes for GMT, if you can believe it) with some extra explanations added in so I could address some questions I got about the characters in comments and messages from readers. Let me know if there's any other questions you have :)

~~~LOUIS~~~

Louis is the type of guy to curse you out for leaving your clothes in the washer without transferring them to the dryer, but then transfer them for you and remember to add dryer sheets because he knows you like the way they make your clothes smell. All crunchy on the outside… but creamy on the inside. Like a peanut butter M&M (ironically the author’s favorite boy is much the same as the author’s favorite candy, imagine that).

He’s always had a big, loving family, none of whom so much as flinched when he came out. To them, his sexuality was a fact about him rather than a defining characteristic. It was far less central to their view of him than the fact that even as a child, he was always seeking (and usually succeeding) to find out what went on in people’s minds.

His first tattoo came at sixteen, his first piercing a month later, and it was all downhill from there. To Louis, tattoos are more than just art gracing his skin --though they are that. They’re a mask, something that distracts people and keeps them a step back so Louis can watch them the way he so loves to do. People don’t tend to think too hard about who you are and what your motivation is when they’re too busy staring at the tattoos on your throat. It isn’t until he’s in college and people start telling him that his punk aesthetic will hurt his career that he starts wearing it defiantly. He fully intends prove to all who doubt him that he won’t be good at his job _despite_ his tattoos, but because of the person they proudly tell the world that he is.

Louis! Just! Wants! To! Protect! Harry! That is the main goal of most of what Louis does. He wants Harry safe, and happy, and thinking good things about himself. It comes out a lot in the little things he does-- like how he always tries to touch Harry when Harry wants to be touched, or the way he’ll give up the extra blanket so Harry is warm. He never says it out loud, because it might overwhelm Harry to understand how much of his time Louis spends looking after him. But Louis is always sure to take care of him, no matter what.

Louis is sometimes jealous of Thomas while he’s still “dating” Harry. Harry would see Louis sulking and being miserable after the fact and have no idea what’s going on. He’d probably think that it was something he’d done at first, so he’d be all timid and ginger around Louis, waiting for him to get mad and make Harry leave. And even in his sulk , Louis would notice Harry wasn’t himself and he’d snap out of it to make Harry happy again. That’s sort of Louis’ thing-- he’s going to ignore his own need to be upset about wanting Harry because he puts Harry’s need to be taken care of above that. Harry is priority number one, from very early on.

Louis doesn’t lie, insofar as he can help it, and he’s clever enough to avoid it for the most part. It’s against his philosophy. He’ll avoid questions, change the topic, answer with half-truths… but he really, really hates lying. Counseling is built on truth, period. But… when it comes to keeping Harry happy and healthy, Louis is willing to sacrifice even his most non-negotiable beliefs. So he’ll happily lie and say he flunked a test or something and _that’s_ why he’s in a funk, if it means that Harry doesn’t have to feel guilty over something that isn’t his fault, like the fact that every time Louis sees him in Thomas’ clothes it makes him want to punch a wall and pout.

No matter how much Louis tells Harry and everyone else to express themselves, Louis never does. He keeps it all bottled up and sometimes he just needs to get pissed at the person who fucked with the head of someone so innocent. Even later on, after Thomas is a thing of the past, it takes a lot of work and focus for Louis to remember that he gets to feel things too, and doesn’t always have to be the rock in this relationship. It takes a lot of times of Harry reminding Louis to open up that he finally learns to practice what he preaches.

~~~HARRY~~~

Harry’s never really gotten to experience cuddling. Thomas is his first romantic (“””romantic”””) relationship, and he’s certainly not getting cuddles there. At first, when he starts hanging out with Louis, he always tries to have casual contact (like their elbows touching or something tiny and innocent like that), just because the poor kid is starved of physical contact. He gets a lot of comfort from it, but it takes him a lot of time to get confident enough to _ask_ for it, because he’s worried that Louis won’t want to touch him. So in other words, Harry won’t ever _ask_ Louis to cuddle him in those early days… but everything feels better when he does. And of course Louis sees that and makes an effort to give that to him as often as he can, in whatever way he can.

Harry’s probably first going to realize that what Thomas is saying is wrong because of how it relates to Louis. The negative thinking and internalized homophobia all started with Thomas, but then during the relationship got leaked to Harry. Now Harry has all of these things ingrained in his mind, so even though people on the outside can see Thomas is treating him terribly, Harry doesn’t see that. In Harry’s eyes, of course Thomas is terrible to him- he’s a dirty cocksucking whore and he deserves it.

But then Louis is going to come along and basically point out, “So does that mean that _I’m_ all of these things, too?” Because if Harry thinks that stuff about himself, but that logic he thinks them about Louis, too. (Note: trying to apply someone’s negative self-image to yourself as a rebuttal is actually terrible form but oh well. Louis _is_ still learning, after all). So then Harry’s confused, because of course those things aren’t true of Louis! Louis is everything good in the world. That’s the moment at which Harry starts to realize that there’s something wrong with the things he’s been told all this time.

Sometimes, in the early days, Harry finds himself measuring his “gayness” against Louis’. He’s sensitive about appearing gay (like his offense the first time they meet when he thinks the rainbow M&M’s are a jab) and sometimes feels like Louis is somehow better than him because he’s more traditionally masculine. It effects him to think that, even if he never says it out loud. There are little things, like changing the way he sits so he looks more like Louis, or the way he says things. Even Louis’ skill at footie would be a sore point, because somewhere deep down Harry gets upset that he’s so not sporty and sort of momentarily lapses into that “I’m a pansy” self-hate. But as he starts to get better, he starts to understand that gayness isn’t measurable, and even if it were, life is not a competition to see who can better pass for straight.

It takes Harry a very long time to shake the belief that it’s wrong for him to want those things. While dating Thomas, he accepted it- basically, he acknowledged “I am a slut if I want this, but I can’t stop wanting it so I am a slut.” When he was with Thomas that didn’t bother him so much, because Thomas hated it and he hated it and they reached a sort of homeostasis where both of them were disgusted with that side of Harry. But now, with Louis, everything is changing. It bothers Harry more because he doesn’t want Louis to think badly of him. He wants to present himself as desirable so that Louis will like him, so the fact that he’s “a dirty slut” is horrific to him. He doesn’t want to feel those things, because he doesn’t want to be disgusting, because he wants Louis to like him.

Thomas leaves Harry with the mentality that not only are his desires wrong, but that anyone who lets him act them out is doing him a favor. There are still times that he approaches Louis about doing sexual things and is really nervous because he feels it’s somewhat of an imposition for him to initiate sex.

This whole “learned submissiveness” issue is going to be a problem for Louis and Harry down the road, because while there _is_ the element wherein Harry initially feels like he deserves to be objectified and looked down upon, there’s also the fact that Harry is just somewhat submissive by nature as well. So when they start getting intimate, Louis is always so hesitant to let Harry take those submissive positions (because he’s afraid that Harry doesn’t actually want that and is doing it because he feels he has to). Which then frustrates Harry, because Thomas be damned, sometimes Harry just wants to suck Louis off. Sometimes he wants to be fucked. He struggles to understand why Louis can’t just trust him when he says he really does want it. In fact, the only way that Louis ever finds peace with that (which in turn gives everybody what they want) is that he just totally tunes in to Harry during sex, becoming hyper aware of everything Harry is doing and feeling and basically monitoring him the whole to make sure his heart is in it. And of course with time he learns that sometimes Harry just wants Louis to be in control for reasons that have nothing to do with Thomas and just have everything to do with the two of them.

~~~THOMAS~~~

I want readers to really understand that Thomas is not just an asshole, he’s sick in the mind. It’s an important distinction, especially when you’re looking at how it trickles down to effect Harry. Issues like the ones Thomas has don’t come from nowhere, they have an origin. People aren’t born hating gays, they have to be taught by something, and in this case, the fault is in society and the way it deems that the only things worth being or having are the things everyone else already enjoys.

Thomas is the pinnacle of mainstream. If it isn’t name brand, he won’t wear it. If it isn’t top 40, he’s not listening. And whatever opinion the majority of the world is spouting on a topic? That’s what he goes along with, too. He has a deep-seated psychological need to conform. So when he starts realizing he’s gay, he violently opposes it on the grounds that “society thinks gays are ____” (fill in the blank negative perception). That’s where his conflict comes from- he wants to hate gays because he _needs_ to conform, but at the same time… he really likes it when Harry sucks him off because deep down, it’s men he’s attracted to. So he takes it out on Harry, getting angry and repressive and passing on his anti-gay tirade all as a way of repressing his true feelings.

The kicker is that Thomas has little or no understanding of the fact that he’s got this doublethink (two conflicting ideas that you’ve somehow accepted and integrated despite their being at odds) going on within him. He is so far gone with denial that even though he _knows_ that he’s getting off with Harry and he experiences arousal at that, he doesn’t… it’s like sub-reality for him. Like he’s dissociated. It’s someone else that Harry sucks off, in his mind, because he has this image of himself as straight and he would never let a guy do that to him. It doesn’t make sense to most sane people, for him to think that way, but then, Thomas isn’t sane. His mind is broken.

Despite the fact that Harry and Thomas are by no means a typical or functional relationship, Thomas is still an incredibly jealous person, which of course causes much conflict when Louis comes into the picture and threatens to win Harry over with his patience and kindness. If it were a normal relationship, a jealous boyfriend would put his arm around Harry or kiss him when Louis was watching to show he’s the one in charge. But since this is _not_ a normal relationship it would present differently. The idea would be the same-- Thomas wanting to show Louis and Harry both who's in charge here. He wants to send Louis signals that "you need to step off" and send Harry signals that "I'm the one you answer to, not him." That’s why the first time Louis and Thomas meet there’s this almost tangible tug of war going on just beneath the surface.

Thomas is an incredibly complicated creature. On the one hand, he pushes Harry away and denies they’re in a relationship and denies he’s gay and constantly criticizes anyone and anything that’s anything less than straight and mainstream-compliant. But then, at the same time… he _is_ gay, and it shows in the way he manipulated Harry into getting him off, or those little jealous, dominant behaviors that he does. He doesn’t even _like_ Harry. But because he’s got this conflict going on inside of him, he still can’t help but want to have that influence and control over Harry.

He’s not so much concerned about the idea that Harry and Louis might have a sexual/romantic relationship as he is concerned about the fact that Harry looks like he might want to be around Louis instead of Harry. Thomas likes the way that Harry is unfailingly dedicated and adoring towards him, so when he sees Louis and Harry getting along, he tries to bring the attention back to himself.

Thomas definitely doesn't trust Louis. He hates him for being gay, hates him for threatening Harry's status as Thomas' object... so he doesn't trust Louis at all. But it's not so much about trust, either him trusting Louis _or_ him trusting Harry, because again, he isn't concerned about how others feel. It's just about the actions. He doesn't care how Harry _feels_ , as long as Harry _stays._ Thomas wants Harry to himself not in the way that a lover shields his beloved… but in the way that you lock up your possessions in a safe and never look at them. It’s not that you particularly want them, it’s just so that no one else can have them.

Thomas is by no means an innocent villain; he has made the choice to buy into society’s bullshit and as a result of that, he has done awful, terrible things to Harry (and others). But he’s also a _realistic_ villain. People aren’t made of pure evil, they’re shaped by the world around them and have their own thoughts and feelings and motivations. And Thomas is a fucked up person, as some people just are.

~~~ZAYN~~~

Zayn, though Harry’s best friend for pretty much their entire lives, gets a very filtered and distorted idea of what goes on between Thomas and Harry. He knows what he sees-- that Thomas puts Harry down and uses ‘gay’ as an insult, and that Thomas dislikes Zayn for being gay as well. So he knows that Thomas is a dick with a twisted way of seeing things. But as far as what Harry tells him… Zayn gets facts only after they’re run through the filter of Harry’s perceptions. So, for example, Zayn might know that Harry’s phone got messed up because Thomas threw out Harry’s jeans because “he didn’t like them.” But he wouldn’t know that it was because Thomas thought they made Harry look like a cockslut. So that mentality Harry has of excusing everything Thomas does causes him to ‘tone down’ a lot of the things that might push Zayn over the edge into “you’re my best mate and I’m getting you away from this asshole” territory.

As far as details of their sex life, that’s not really something Harry would talk about to Zayn. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Zayn or doesn’t want to be open with Zayn, it’s just that he’s so ashamed of it all. He’s been brainwashed to think he’s wrong for wanting those things, so he doesn’t want to tell Zayn and have Zayn know that he’s a dirty slut. It’s probably better that he doesn’t know, in the end, because for all of Zayn’s seemingly endless calm, he has one hot button whose name is Harry Styles and it gets pushed when his best friend is in danger. Big time.

The thing about Zayn is that even though he's not a psych major, he's very smart and very observant. He's quiet, so he sees and hears a lot. And he's known Harry for ages, so he's seen the changes that have occurred since Thomas entered the picture. Most of all he listens, and never forgets. That’s just the kind of friend (and man) he is.

Zayn sort of has trouble expressing his thoughts in words. Not insofar as any sort of mental/developmental problems, just in the sense that words aren't his thing. He's so much better at showing rather than telling. Art is how he expresses himself, which is why when the task falls to him to explain the way that Thomas’ presence in Harry’s life has changed him, the best he can do is to show a slideshow of his pictures of Harry. They’re timestamps of his own perceptions and feelings about Harry through the years, and that’s as close to an explanation as he can get with his limited knack for words. Which, in the end, is plenty close enough to do justice to Harry and his needs.

~~~NIALL~~~

Niall is, in a phrase, chill as fuck. He absolutely adores Louis (you can’t fight the canon on that) and looks up to him like a big brother, which probably has led to the way that he sees life as a series of adventures rather than challenges. He’s got Louis’ calm attitude while still retaining an unquenchable zest for life that leaves him starry-eyed as he faces the world. He’s known he’s wanted to be a music teacher ever since he can remember, because a good teacher can make all the difference in helping someone learn to enjoy life (and music is bomb as hell).

Louis isn’t kidding when he says Niall epitomizes straight, because all throughout his life he’s never given any thought to being queer and is somewhat of a womanizer besides. But the first time Zayn kisses him, he doesn’t find it all that strange that he wants to kiss back. It’s not that he’s ever held the belief that he _doesn’t_ like kissing boys, he’s just never stopped to think about it. And now that he has, the idea doesn’t bother him in the least. He just likes kissing Zayn. He just likes being with Zayn. He just loves Zayn. It doesn’t have to be some big complicated thing, because it’s just him and Zayn. That’s all.

~~~LIAM~~~

Liam, bless his little soul, is a simple creature. Not in that he doesn’t have thoughts or feelings or deserve a plotline of his own, but in that his motives are clear and his heart of gold. He cares deeply about his friends --honestly, no one short of a saint or Liam Payne would spend _that_ much time and energy picking up after Louis-- and just strives to be the best man he can be at all times. He has his fun too, of course, likes to party and play footie and get drunk off his ass when times call for celebration, but only insofar as it’s still sensible and fun. Hedonism wherein it does no harm, that’s his motto. That’s his moral compass and since it guides him to four amazing friends and the happy, intertwined families they create together, it seems to be a fairly good one.

~~~ED~~~

Ed Sheeran exactly, plus an explicit enjoyment of people with penises. A suitable second choice for Harry Styles, if we’re being honest (and I always strive to be).

~~~THAT GUY WHO TRIED TO PICK UP LOUIS IN THE BAR~~~

Have you seen louis’ ass I mean can you blame him

~~~AARON THE BARKEEP~~~

As drunk!Louis would say, _lovely._

~~~JOANNA DEAKIN~~~

The beautiful creature who created our lord and savior Louis Tomlinson. One can only assume she’s an angel incarnate with the patience of a saint, to have both birthed someone as wonderful as Louis and raised someone as _totally fucking insufferable as Louis._ God bless that woman.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is a deleted scene where basically Harry again asks to be fucked senseless in a bar but this time Louis gets to say yes ;)
> 
> Canonlarry | tumblr


	3. Night Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry still turns into a bit of a slag when he's drunk. The only difference is that now, Louis gets to surrender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boys touching boys again, y'all know how it works with me by now ;)
> 
> (also semi-public sex, slightly intoxicated sex, minor exhibitionism, dirty talking, Louis' secret pain kink... you know, all the good stuff)

There should probably be some jealous place in Louis’ head that makes him want to keep Harry tucked away just for himself. He’s one of a kind, after all, a real gem, and Louis is not the only one who seems to have a hard time taking their eyes off of him. After all they’ve fought through to be together, there should logically be some part of Louis that rears up in jealousy when Harry wants to dress up and go out and get trashed and dance in front of the world.

There isn’t.

Because Louis is always right there with him, the focus of the flirtatious, undulating mess Harry becomes after three or four drinks, and even if there are other people watching and looking at Harry with hungry eyes, it feels like just the two of them. There’s just the cold drink in Louis’ hand, and Harry pressed close with a smile on his face, and the music thrumming through the both of them.

“Tall bloke with the vest on’s been watching you dance for fifteen minutes,” Louis says casually on one such night, sipping his drink as he takes another surreptitious peek at Harry’s secret admirer. They’re front to front bobbing along with the music, both in that happy place where you’re sober enough to have near-full control of your body and tipsy enough to still have fun.

Harry lifts the hand that isn’t holding Louis’ waist to drain the last of his own drink, pulling a little face at the strength of that last swallow of liquor. “Is he cute?” he replies with a smirk, looking down at Louis with a playful glint in his eye. “Worth leaving you for?”

Louis drapes his arms around Harry’s neck and pretends to mull it over. “Fairly cute. Kinda twinky, dunno if he’s your type. Probably thinks you’re daddy material, now that you’ve got the ponytail thing going on.” He flicks said ponytail with a grin, causing a drop of icy condensation to fall from his glass and run down the back of Harry’s neck, and the younger boy shivers just a little.

“So probably not my type, then,” Harry confirms, then gives a dramatic sigh. “What a shame. Guess I’ll have to keep you, then.”

They both lean in for a kiss at the same second, and have to stop to giggle at that before their lips actually meet. They both taste like alcohol and artificial flavoring, mouths a little clumsy with the liquor. They’ve been together too long at this point to care, though, having spent plenty of nights trading haphazard kisses without feeling like they had to be anything other than perfectly themselves to impress their boyfriend.

Like how it’s so very _Harry,_ the way he presses his body close and rubs the semi he’s been sporting all night into the catch of Louis’ jeans as a little tease. “I like you, Lou,” he murmurs as he tugs Louis’ glass from his fingers and puts it on a nearby table alongside his own, like he’s the jealous one who can’t stand to have Louis’ hands on anything but him. “Dance with me.”

“You more than like me,” Louis corrects with a grin, “and I _am_ dancing with you.”

“Could be doing other things with me.” It’s a weak innuendo, Louis can tell that even through the fuzziness of his few drinks, but the way Harry swivels his hips against Louis’ leave no doubt where he’s going with it. “Look so hot, Lou, wanna touch you.”

There’s a little jolt of deja vu as Louis thinks back to the last time Harry whispered dirty things in his ear in a club with liquor on his breath. It sends the same thrill down his spine as it did back then, the same instant desire to give Harry anything and everything he wanted, but now it’s different. Now he has permission to _give in._

“What, here on the dance floor?” Louis slides his hands down Harry’s sides and rucks up his shirt, letting his fingers splay on the overheated skin of Harry’s waist. He kisses Harry lazily, like he isn’t affected, like he isn’t starting to harden in his jeans too. “That’s a bit naughty, innit? The other patrons may not like it if I fuck you right in the middle of the room.”

Harry moans into his mouth and nods, to what exactly Louis doesn’t quite understand. He takes Louis’ face between his hands and licks into his mouth with an edge of desperation that’s definitely too sexual for a public place, even a dark dance floor like this one. “So take me to the loo, then, fuck me in a bathroom stall.”

“Jesus Christ,” Louis huffs out before he remembers that he’s trying to play it cool. It’s just that he feels considerably drunker now than he did a few minutes ago, with drinks gone and their hands all over each other. “That’s so classless, Haz,” he tries again when Harry’s rhythm falters and there’s three seconds in a row where their dicks aren’t being rubbed together. “Can’t believe you want me to fuck you in a club bathroom, what a cliche. And gross. I have _some_ standards.”

He steps back out of Harry’s embrace, ignoring his noise of protest, and spins on his heel to head for the exit.  He’s not even halfway there before Harry’s grabbing at his elbow, trying to shout over the crowd to be heard, to no avail. Finally Louis pushes the open door beneath the flickering neon exit sign and steps into the night with Harry hot on his heels. “Louis, wait, I’m sorry,” Harry says as the door slams behind them and the music fades to a dull throb. “I didn’t mean to make you mad, I just--”

But before he can finish his apology, Harry’s back is hitting the brick wall of the alleyway and Louis is pressing their mouths together once more. “Not mad,” he murmurs against Harry’s lips, “just had to get you out of that club.”

His hands trail down Harry’s torso to work at his belt, fumbling a little in his haste now that they’re away from prying eyes. As soon as he can he slips a hand inside to palm Harry through his briefs, loving the way Harry arches up even as he hiccups a little in surprise. “I thought you said it was gross and -ah!- cliche?”

“Fucking in the club _bathroom_ was gross and cliche.” Louis peels his mouth from Harry’s skin to look around them for a second, taking in the romantic scenery of dumpsters and ripped flyers and cars whizzing by at the far end of the alley. “This is-- well, still gross, but at least it isn’t overdone.”

Harry doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about overdone, helping Louis push his jeans and briefs down around his thighs and then reaching into Louis’ back pocket to pull out the little packet of lube hidden there. “Saw you get this before we left,” he says slyly, a twinkle in his eye. “You planned this, didn’t you? You knew.”

“I knew how you get when you’ve been drinking,” Louis admits with a flush. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and tongues at the cool metal of his piercing, taking the packet from Harry’s fingers. “Why, does that make it less hot?”

He doesn’t get an answer except for how Harry looks pointedly down at where his cock remains at attention pushing up against the cotton of his tee shirt and giggles-- fucking _giggles._ It reminds Louis how much Harry’s had to drink, that he’s so pliant and pleased in Louis’ arms. But Louis knows all shades of Harry, even the drunk shades, and he isn’t bothered by the slur of Harry’s words. By now he knows that drunk Harry is just Harry emboldened, knows that Harry’s smart and strong and never asks for anything that he doesn’t want. And liquor or no, he wants Louis.

He gives a pleased noise when Louis spins them around so Louis’ back is to the wall and Harry can brace himself on either side of Louis’ head. He leans in towards him and spreads his legs as much as he can with his pants still around his knees. From this angle Louis can reach around behind Harry with his now-slick fingers and start pressing his fingertips at Harry’s entrance, gentle but firm. It isn’t the best angle, the confines around Harry’s legs making him tight, but it only sends another zing of excitement through Louis and straight to his cock.

At first Harry’s face screws up with discomfort when Louis starts to finger him open, but he quickly distracts himself by leaning in for another kiss. One of his hands leaves the wall behind Louis and moves to Louis’ jeans, and after a minute of fumbling manages to free Louis’ cock and shuffle so he can take both of their lengths in one large hand. He strokes them both together, teeth harsh and biting against Louis’ lips, breaths quickly turning to pants as Louis adds another finger.

“You know, someone could come out here any minute,” Louis murmurs when Harry moves to groan into his neck instead, and it isn’t just dirty talk. They’re really quite exposed, right outside the club’s back door, and anyone looking to avoid exiting through the crowd could easily stumble right into them here with pants around knees and hands in very compromising places. “First thing they’d see would be you taking my fingers that way.”

“Give me another,” Harry whines like that’s a challenge, and he’d almost be unrecognizable as the shy boy Louis fell in love with if it weren’t for the delighted blush on his cheeks. However bold his words, he still hides his face in Louis’ shoulder at the thought of someone seeing them this way. “Please, Lou, need you,” he whispers as he rocks back on the third finger Louis’ provided, his rhythm on their cocks faltering.

Louis takes over as he spends another minute stretching Harry to readiness, ignoring his own cock --he’s _plenty_ hard enough, this is already going to be a lightning round-- to just tease his thumb around the tip of Harry’s. The younger boy jerks his hips forward into the sensation, and it’s only when he’s pressing in and rutting quite shamelessly against Louis’ stomach that Louis frees his hands up once more and ducks beneath Harry’s arm to circle around behind him.

“Should have brought along a condom, too,” Louis muses as he runs a finger down the inside of Harry’s thighs. He collects the excess lube creating a mess there and uses it to slick himself up. It’s not that they use condoms for protection, really-- haven’t for months now-- but there’s certainly nothing in this alley he can use to clean them up after. “Gonna make a mess of you.”

He can practically see the arousal kick up a notch in Harry’s eyes as he looks back over his shoulder and licks his lips. “Good. Then you can take me home and make a mess of me again.”

“Deal,” Louis breathes, dropping his forehead against Harry’s back to fend off a little wave of dizziness --is that his fading buzz, or just The Harry Effect? He waits until Harry’s settled, back arched and head nestled in his arms where he leans against the wall, then lines himself up and starts slowly, _slowly_ pushing inside.

He’s tighter than normal, tighter than the first time they fucked even, and Louis instinctively reaches down to try to spread Harry’s legs further apart before he remembers that they’re trapped in the confines of the jeans still around his thighs because they’re fucking in an _alley_ with _all their clothes on._ Somehow the thought just turns him on more, that little illicit thrill, and he sinks his teeth into whatever part of Harry’s in front of his swollen lips. It’s mostly tee shirt that he winds up getting, but there’s just enough of a nip to make Harry whimper, shuddering back into Louis and inadvertently causing him to bottom out far quicker than he was intending.

“You alright?” Louis asks in response to the little grunt Harry gives and the tension in his back, smoothing his hands up Harry’s sides and keeping still even if it makes a little bead of sweat roll down his temple.

“Yeah, truth,” comes Harry’s quick response, an old habit that he’s never quite managed to shake. Louis hopes he never does. He never gives anything but truths to Louis anymore, always with his heart on his sleeve, trusting Louis to take care of him the same way he takes care of Louis. He shudders a little beneath Louis’ gentle touch and draws in a ragged breath. “Lou--?”

He doesn’t have to finish the question. Louis knows what he wants, knows he’s relishing the sensation as Louis slowly draws out and pushes back in, punching the air from Harry’s lungs. With each drag the slide gets easier, until he can fuck into Harry with relative ease. Harry shifts a little trying to chase a better angle and Louis feels a flutter in his gut that has him picking up the pace as his body reminds him that stamina isn’t in the cards tonight.

There’s really nothing romantic about it. Louis’ movements are jerky, the angle is all wrong, their hastily undone zippers snag against soft skin as they move together. There’s a dim lightbulb above the back door that’s flickering weakly, and they can hear drunk people stumbling down the distant street. There should be nothing about this situation that gets them riled up, except that Harry’s still moaning into the crook of his arm and digging his fingernails into the brick and Louis feels himself get hot all over with the idea of doing this out here in public just because Harry couldn’t wait to get all the way home, reaching up to tangle in those ridiculously long curls slowly falling out of their ponytail.

The angle must have shifted some without Louis trying, because all of a sudden Harry is yelping and smacking the brick above him with enthusiasm. “Yes, right there!” he shouts, oblivious to the world around him, doing his best to fuck backwards and meet Louis’ thrusts as he throws his head back and pants at the night sky. “Perfect, just like that, gonna make me come, Lou!”

“The fucking _mouth_ on this one when he’s drunk!” Louis groans in lamentation, and Harry’s answering too-pretty-not-to-be-a-porn-star moan seals the deal. He lets go of Harry’s hair and reaches around him to grab at his cock and stroke it hard and fast as he aims a few more thrusts right at Harry’s sweet spot and rides his own high up and up and up until he’s coming, hips digging roughly into Harry, face buried in Harry’s shoulderblades as he stutters out a mantra of _fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

He keeps tugging Harry off as he comes, and it isn’t long before Harry’s tensing up and giving a little gasp as he comes too, warm and wet all over Louis’ fist. He clenches around Louis where he’s still buried deep inside and Louis yelps. It’s too much, it _hurts,_ but it only makes Louis shudder a little more and deepen the bruises he’s leaving on Harry’s hip as aftershocks run through him.

They both pant weakly for a minute until Louis pulls out with a groan, a deep feeling of satisfaction in his gut. He watches as Harry slowly pulls up his briefs and jeans, fastening them over the slick mess of come and lube already starting to run down his thighs. He’s going to be wet the whole way home, and Louis’ mind is already thinking about laying him down in bed and cleaning him up only to ruin him again.

“Got something on your hand,” Harry says coyly, looking at where his come is dripping down Louis’ fingers. “Gonna do something about that?”

“Sure I am.” Louis reaches out and cups Harry’s oversensitive cock through his jeans, wiping the mess on the denim as Harry’s eyes go wide and he has to grip the wall for support with a hissing gasp of air. “You’re already a wreck, few more smudges won’t hurt, eh?”

He certainly is a wreck, with his eyes all glassy and his lips bitten pink, pants ruined with come both inside and out, movements stiff as he steps forward and kisses Louis softly. His hair is all askew from Louis’ tugging, pulse still racing beneath Louis’ palm as he reaches up to cup Harry’s cheek. “You fucked me in the alley behind a club,” he whispers into Louis’ ear, like Louis isn’t perfectly aware of this.

Louis doesn’t call him on how silly the comment is, just steals another kiss from his lips and takes a step back towards the street at the far end of the alley. “C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he says gently, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist to help him start to limp towards the streetlights. “Men with tattoos in dark alleys are bad news, you know. Someone might think I lured you back here to take advantage of you or something crazy like that.”

“Oh yeah, you’re quite the miscreant,” Harry giggles as he leans his head in to rest against Louis’.

As if anyone could look at them and think that Louis meant this sweet boy any harm, when he helps him sit gently on the curb while he calls them a cab. He keeps carding through Harry’s hair as they wait, body angled to shield him from the drunks causing a scene at the other end of the block like he wants to stand between Harry and danger even when he isn’t thinking about it. No, there’s nothing but fondness in every touch when Louis helps Harry gingerly into the cab, kisses him on the cheek, and walks around to slide in next to him and hold him close as they make the journey home.

Some things have changed, in the time that drags on since they fell in love. Other things, Louis thinks to himself, never will.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked that lil revisit of Louis' pain kink and seeing Harry's sluttier side you're going to love the next chapter, wherein Harry pulls out that mysterious box beneath Louis' bed that Liam keeps alluding to and always seems to make Louis blush. ;)
> 
> canonlarry | tumblr


	4. Pandora's Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis' got a box of goodies beneath his bed that he hasn't opened since before he met Harry. Harry wants a peek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings/tags for this chapter: boys touching boys, bondage, sex toys, top louis, powerbottom harry I guess???, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, riding, more feels than there really should be in a fic this filthy probably

Louis really should have known better than to avoid talking about the box.

They talk about literally everything, him and Harry, from school to feelings to what the best type of cheese is for making mac n’ cheese. They’re both open books, pages and pages of truths for each other that really don’t ever shut up.

So the fact that Louis doesn’t talk about the box kind of stands out. Liam talks about the box, when he’s feeling mischievous and wants to make the usually unflappable Louis blush. Louis never really responds, though, except to curse at Liam or make some sort of bodily threat. He doesn’t talk about it when he and Harry move either, and what used to reside beneath Louis’ bed is shoved into the back of their closet. “Don’t worry about it,” he just tells Harry when he’s met with an inquisitive gaze. “It’s not that important.”

And it isn’t. It _totally_ isn’t, because they’ve been together for quite some time now and they’ve never needed to open the box before, so if Louis is content leaving it shut then really, Harry shouldn’t be so concerned about it.

But Harry is Harry, and therefore it takes about a month of that mysterious box burning a hole in their closet floor before Louis comes home from work one day to find Harry propped up against the headboard with his legs crossed primly at the ankle and hands folded nicely in his lap with the box sitting next to him on the duvet. “We need to talk about the box, Louis.”

Louis freezes for a second in the doorway and then forces himself to start moving again with deliberate calm. He shucks his suit jacket and throws it over the back of a chair, then kicks off his shoes in the general direction of his shoe pile, far neater than he usually is. “Did you open it?” he asks as casually as he can manage. It feels like walking through quicksand, the few steps over to the bed. He climbs up and mirrors Harry’s pose, the box laying ominously between them.

Harry’s eyes are locked on Louis’ face. “Of course not. Didn’t want to invade your privacy.”

“I wouldn’t be mad,” Louis is quick to say. “What’s mine is yours.”

It’s beside the point and they both know it. “Wanted _you_ to tell me what’s inside.”

“Just some stuff. Old stuff. Of mine. Haven’t even opened it in like a year,” Louis mumbles vaguely, fingers tapping nervously on his thigh. _Keep your cool, Tommo._

There’s a pause, like Harry is waiting for Louis to go on and provide more detail-- or _any_ detail, as the case may be. No such information comes. He clears his throat and presses again. “Liam seems to think that the box is full of sex toys or something.”

Louis slides his tongue between his teeth and runs it across the metal on the inside of his lip where the piercings poke through. “He-- yeah. He’s right.”

Another pause. “We have a lot of sex.”

“We do.”

“You’ve never brought up sex toys though.”

“Look, it’s _really_ not that important,” Louis reiterates with a plea in his voice, face definitely starting to get pink with embarrassment. _Keep. It. Together._ “We don’t need sex toys, we have fantastic sex just the two of us.”

Harry takes on that ultra-calm therapist voice he’s picked up from Louis over their time together. “I’m not saying that I think we need them or anything,” he reasons, “I’m just curious why we haven’t even talked about it. You have this box full of stuff that you _never_ talk about, and we-- I dunno, we talk about things. We talk about everything. I’m just curious why you’re hiding these.”

“I’m not hiding them,” Louis jumps in at once, but then has to bite down on the inside of his cheek because he recognizes the lie straight out of his own mouth. After that, he kind of _has_  to reach down and push the lid off the box, just so that it can be the truth. “I’m not hiding them.”

There’s the usual stuff, Harry finds when he turns his gaze away from Louis’ conflicted face and to the contents of the box. Dildo, vibrator, plug, festive (albeit expired) flavored lube. But there are other things here that Louis flushes deeper when Harry’s fingers graze over them. A black silk tie. Handcuffs. Silky rope good for knots that don’t tug free but are easy enough to untie. Cock ring. “What is-- oh,” Harry blushes as his brain catches up and he recognizes the contraption hanging from his fingers to be a set of nipple clamps.

By this point both of their faces are beet red, and Louis hides his in his hands. “It’s _so_ not a big deal,” he announces for the third time in as many minutes.

A very good attempt is made on Harry’s part to retain his composure. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Lou. I already knew about your pain thing. How you like it rough.” He’s witnessed firsthand how crazy Louis gets when Harry scratches down his back or bites into his shoulder or gives Louis’ hair a yank. He’s known it since the very first time they were together.

But this is different. “It’s-- it’s _different,”_ Louis says brilliantly, mind scrambling to think of ways to back that statement up. “That’s not just you and me, it’s-- it’s _stuff,_ and--”

Harry doesn’t push. He never pushes. He just shoves the box over so he can reach out and take Louis’ hand in his own, running his thumb soothingly over Louis’ knuckles until Louis breathes out a little tension. “Tell me why it’s different,” he says at last, voice ever so gentle.

“They’re from a different time of my life,” Louis finds himself saying. “Feels like a different version of myself. Back when I dated around a lot, had a lot of kinky one night stands. That was who I was back then, but I’m a different person now. I don’t-- I don’t need that stuff with you. It’s not about kinky sex, it’s about being with you.”

“You’ve changed, since the time you used these,” Harry nods quietly. “Do you not-- are you not into this stuff anymore?”

“No, I am,” Louis admits, and has to swallow hard when he allows himself to look closer at the long-abandoned contents of the box. “I just don’t want you to think that’s what I’m all about. I’m not in it for the kinky sex, I’m in it for you.”

“Louis, you ought to know me better than that,” Harry sighs with relief, tension draining from his shoulders as he climbs to straddle Louis’ lap and pull him into a hug. “Of course I don’t think that. I love you. You love me. What you like in bed doesn’t change the way I know that.”

“Yeah, I know that.” _But still._

“We can do new stuff in bed and still have fantastic sex and still have it be about us,” he continues, nuzzling into Louis’ neck. “Two totally separate issues. You love me, and you have kinks. See? I totally know the difference.”

He’s so right. He’s so bloody _right_ and there’s this flood of relief as Louis wraps his arms around Harry and mentally kicks himself. What a silly thing to worry about. Of _course_ Harry understands, just like he’s understood every other dumb-assed thing that Louis’ ever said or done thinking that he has to protect Harry.

“I’m a tit, aren’t I?” Louis mumbles into Harry’s collarbone, then gives it a little ‘thank you’ kiss. “Dumbest genius alive.”

“Sometimes,” Harry agrees, and Louis can hear the smile in his voice even with his face hidden. “I still love you though.”

They make eye contact for the first time since Louis walked into the room and Harry leans in for a kiss, all comfort and sweetness and everything Louis loves about him. He takes Louis’ face in his hands and takes a minute to kiss gently before licking his tongue out a little more urgently, shifting the tone just a little.

“I understand if this is maybe a little too soon,” Harry reasons in a murmur against Louis’ lips, “but now that we’ve talked about the box, are we going to-- you know, _use_ the box?”

Louis’ side of the kisses stutter, but only because he’s having a hard time maintaining focus when his cock is taking interest in the conversation. “Uh-- yeah, sure,” he manages to coherently say, blinking up at Harry where the younger boy’s pulled back to bite at his lip. “If you want to, I-- want to.”

Harry just grins back at him, reaching over to pull the box closer. “Let’s see what we have here.”

His interest goes straight to the smooth plaits of rope, just like Louis knew it would. They’re right up his alley, beautiful and strong, and he takes one length in each hand before hesitating, suddenly unsure how to follow through.

“Wrought iron headboard,” Louis points out gently. “Good for tying things to. If you wanted.”

“Like boyfriends?” Harry asks with a grateful little smile, climbing off Louis’ lap.

Louis shifts so he’s lying on his back in the middle of the bed and unfurls his arms to either side to hold onto the cool metal bars. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stomach fluttering. “Like boyfriends.”

Harry’s fingers are a little unsure as he wraps the ropes around Louis’ wrists and the bars he’s gripping. “That good?”

“Little tighter,” Louis says, licking his lips. “Don’t want to cut off the circulation, but gotta make sure I can’t pull free either.” Harry’s pupils dilate a little but he just nods, tying the knots just a little tighter so that when Louis pulls, he stays right in place and his cock thickens up in excitement. “Perfect.”

“What else?” Harry asks, leaning back and digging through the box. “We could use…” He pauses when his fingers skate over the black tie, then picks it out and rolls it between his fingertips. “What’s this for?”

Louis tries to shrug, though the movement is stunted somewhat by the ropes. “For tying wrists together. Softer than handcuffs, and the silk feels nice.”

Harry nods but just returns the tie to the box, instead climbing off the bed and shucking his clothes before returning to kneel over Louis with a bottle of lube from the nightstand in hand. He’s sporting a semi and Louis’ hand actually twitches with the desire to reach down and pull him all the way to hardness, a thrill running through him when he can’t. Harry’s eyes run over him from head to toe and back again. “I wanna ride you like that.”

“Absolutely,” Louis breathes, then swallows, hard.

Harry’s already slicking up his fingers and bringing them back behind him, outside of Louis’ field of vision, leaning in for a kiss as he does. It’s a new sensation, to have to just sit and watch (ish) Harry being fingered instead of doing it himself. He still gets to tune into the little hitches in his breath and the way he rocks into it with a slow, gentle rhythm. He still gets little hums and moans against his mouth. But this time Louis doesn’t get to touch, doesn’t get to control the pace, and is simply left lying on his back to get hard on his own and wait for Harry to deign to touch him.

(It’s sort of incredibly hot.)

The pace of Harry’s rocking starts to pick up and his brow furrows as he tries in vain to hit his prostate from this angle. The whine he gives makes Louis’ already hard cock twitch uncomfortably in the confines of his slacks. “H, please,” he mutters against Harry’s lips. “You haven’t even undressed me yet.”

“You look very nice when you’re all dressed up for work, the visual is helping,” Harry answers cheekily, but he does spare a second to give Louis a quick palming through his slacks and laugh when Louis immediately bucks up in search of friction. “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be tied up.”

“I very much like being tied up,” Louis confirms with a grin. “That’s the problem.”

Either Harry’s done prepping himself or his resolve is weak, because he does quit fucking back onto his fingers in favor of working off Louis’ belt and freeing him of his trousers and pants. Once his bottom half is bared, Harry gives him a few light tugs as he frowns at the shirt Louis still wears. “Should have thought this through better before I tied you up,” he mumbles, starting to unbutton it. “Although really, the tousled look is good on you.”

He’s got his shirt hanging open with tattoos exposed, hair a mess and chest flushed with excitement and arousal. He looks positively debauched, especially with the rest of his clothes gone and his cock hard and impatient at his belly. Harry licks his lips like he could devour the man in a heartbeat. Louis’ heart skips a beat like he wouldn’t mind.

There’s a beat where the two just look at each other and Louis is just about to beg for something, anything, when Harry leans over to the box once more and plucks out the tie from before. “I was thinking,” he muses quietly, “that maybe _both_ of us should try new things.”

Louis’ pulse leaps into overtime even before Harry brings up the strip of silk across his eyes, tying it in a firm knot behind Louis’ head before guiding it gently back to the pillow. “That okay?” he whispers somewhere close to Louis’ ear, and then sucks an unexpected lovebite into his throat that has Louis jumping in surprise and then moaning in appreciation as he hurries to nod.

“You’re incredible,” he says preemptively, stomach all aflutter as fingertips trail down his chest and across the skin of his stomach, skating through the trail of hair at his navel. He’s ready for some attention, has been long since aching for a firm grip or maybe a warm, wet mouth if he’s lucky. He sucks in a breath as he feels Harry’s hand wrap around his length--

\--and then has it _whoosh_ right out of him in a groan as Harry sinks down onto his cock, bottoming out with a wiggle that would have Louis seeing stars if he could see a damn thing at all. He yanks against the ropes at his wrists so hard he instantly knows he’ll have bruises like bracelets in the morning, and for a brief second the thought occurs to him that this was a _terrible idea._ Why on earth would he want to find himself in a bed with Harry Styles, love of his life, and not be able to see or touch him?

But then Harry starts to move, and Louis whimpers at the ceiling and resigns himself to this most tragically perfect fate the stars have assigned him. Harry has his hands planted on Louis’ chest, just above his nipple piercings, nails digging into Louis’ collarbones as he sets a gratingly slow pace. Louis wants nothing more than to fuck up into Harry faster, but Harry’s got his ankles hooked over Louis’ thighs pressing down so that his legs are pinned flat to the mattress.

“Dear fucking god,” he all but wails, like he’s composing a letter of complaint and thanks to the almighty as Harry bounces on his cock.

“This alright?” Harry hurries to ask, leaning in to kiss Louis’ throat where his head is thrown back. The change in angle makes him gasp and his thighs quake, but he still makes an effort to hold still until Louis gives an enthusiastic nod.

“This is perfect. You’re perfect,” Louis slurs. He probably would have said just about anything in order to get Harry moving again, but this happens to be a truth. It’s agonizing, to have no control when his body is a live wire and he wants to take over and please Harry right down to his toes, but at the same time, lying here in his bed with Harry above him using him to get himself off this way is potentially the most brilliant moment of Louis’ life.

Harry stretches up to kiss Louis every now and again, and Louis is helpless to do anything but kiss back desperately, never knowing how long he has before Harry will pull away or how much longer it’s going to be before he’s kissed again. He fucks his tongue into Harry’s mouth and savors the taste of him as much as he can before Harry pulls back, kissing at his neck or leaving bite marks on his chest and otherwise driving Louis up the wall.

There’s an ache in Louis’ shoulders from straining at his ropes and his muscles are tense from head to toe, but that only adds to the slow twist building in his gut. “Harry,” he grits out, twisting his head back and forth on the pillow like that’s going to help anything. “Harry, soon. I’m close, really close-”

It’s a little infuriating, not to be able to see what Harry’s doing or even the look on his face as his movements stutter frustratingly and then start up again slower than before as Harry shuffles around. He’s probably deliberately being a little shit and torturing Louis, backing off just when he’s _this close_ to coming just because Louis’ tied up and can’t do anything about it.

Louis hears the buzzing sound about a second and a half before the vibrator that Harry’s just fished from the box is pressed beneath his balls, and he barely has time to curl his hands into fists and dig his heels into the mattress before he’s bucking up and coming on the spot, groan getting caught in his throat because it’s like the wind’s been knocked out of him.

There's the click of a switch being turned off and a thunk as Harry tosses the vibrator to the floor. He's still moving, murmuring encouragements under his breath while Louis pants and grits his teeth and keeps straining fruitlessly to grab ahold of Harry and pull him close. Eventually Harry leans in of his own accord, hips still moving, to give him a sweet kiss. “Tell me when to stop,” he says gently.

“Don’t stop,” Louis immediately replies. “Keep going. Want you to come on top of me.”

He can hear the way Harry’s brow is furrowed. “But you just-?”

“I can take it, truth, just keep going!”

“You’re really hot,” Harry just sort of groans after a pause, leaning back and speeding up his motions again. He’s starting to make these little whimpering sounds as he bounces, hands leaving Louis’ chest and only one coming back. The other is occupied with Harry’s cock, if the new slick sound of skin on skin is any indication. “Fuck, I love you, Louis,” he whispers, and Louis can almost see the flush of his face, the way his tongue will be pushing at his lip in concentration as he rides Louis for dear life.

It hurts. Louis’ body wants to go soft, to end the thrum of hormones now that he’s found his release, but Harry is still moving on top of him and it isn’t over and it’s _so much_ all at once. Louis bites his lip and feels his skin get hot all over with the sensation, his overstimulated body burning up with pleasure as Harry keeps going and going and whispering his name.

There’s this fire in his belly spreading out through his thighs and up into his chest, pleasure and pain all mixed up and clawing at his nerve endings, making him grit his teeth as he listens to the slide of Harry’s hand over his cock quicken. He knows all of Harry’s sounds and knowing what’s coming makes his heart leap up into his throat. “Harry! Harry, Harry, Harry,” he begs, “wanna see you come. Please, baby, wanna see you--”

Harry mewls and fumbles to push the blindfold off, knees digging into Louis’ sides and head thrown back as he slams himself back down on Louis’ cock and twists his wrist, coming at last with a shout. He makes a mess of Louis’ skin and Louis hisses in satisfaction, his stomach fluttering beneath the warm droplets as Harry’s free hand leaves sharp fingernail indents on Louis’ thigh. “Oh fuck, Louis,” Harry groans, head rolling forward so he can look down at Louis past fluttering eyelashes and thighs twitching around Louis’ hips. He keeps stroking himself for another few beats, a few stray drips of come running down over his knuckles.

They both give a tremendous exhale, like it was some sort of release for Louis, too, and he feels some of the feverishness leave his senses. Harry gets off of Louis just as soon as he’s done coming, letting Louis’ still-hard length make a further mess of his tummy. Louis could have predicted the way he immediately lays down and curls into Louis' side, the same way he always does. A strong hand comes up to turn Louis' jaw from where he’s staring at the ceiling in wonderment until he’s facing Harry, and green eyes flutter closed as Harry leans in for a slow kiss. “You alright?” he murmurs against Louis’ lips.

“I love you,” Louis whispers back.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Of course it is. As long as I love you, I’m always alright.”

It’s dumb and cheesy and completely beside the point and really not the answer Harry was looking for, but maybe it’s endorphins because he lets Louis get away with it this time. His hand just keeps stroking Louis’ jaw as they kiss, feeling as the tension starts to drain from his body. Louis’ fists unclench, his shoulders relax, until he’s just lying on his back and letting Harry kiss him senseless as he melts into the soft, downy duvet beneath them.

Harry waits until Louis’ heartbeat is back to its usual steady pace to reach down and tug Louis off once more, quick and so, so gentle. Louis comes without any great commotion, just arching his back and turning his mouth from Harry’s so he can suck in a breath to hold as he tips over the edge. “God,” he simply says as his body relaxes. He doesn’t need to say more.

The second Harry reaches up and loosens the knots at Louis’ wrists enough for him to pull free, Louis is back alive once more and rolling on top of Harry, crushing him close and peppering kisses all over his face and neck and chest and wherever Louis can reach without letting go of him. “You are the most amazing man I’ve ever met,” he says rather fiercely, kissing Harry hard enough to bruise his soft pink lips. “The most genuinely phenomenal human being. I can’t even-- I _love_ you.”

“Truth?” Harry asks with a sneaky grin, eyes sparkling as they look up into Louis’.

“Don’t even ask me that,” Louis grumbles in reply, but he brushes a curl back out of Harry’s face and it feels a bit like an answer anyways. _Truth._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna put this into the original fic but in retrospect I think it was a good decision to wait because we all needed a year to work up to that I think...... I know I did
> 
> Next up, a diamond ring :')
> 
> canonlarry | tumblr


	5. Evergreen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was always bound to happen. It was written in the constellations of a rainbow M&M cookie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rings as promised. Quite a few of them, actually.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: not a thing man all rainbows and butterflies tonight

There are just certain things that a man never wants to witness in his lifetime. You never want to lose someone you love, or watch them get hurt, or watch an innocent person suffer an injustice. Some things are just so horrifying that it makes your stomach toss just thinking about it.

One of these, Louis has decided, is waking up and wandering out of your bedroom to find your mother on the porch having tea with your significant other. There's just no good way for that to end.

Harry looks up as soon as Louis enters, green eyes bright with affection. “Morning babe,” he says sweetly to Louis.

Louis goes over to give him a kiss, but he's still awkwardly ruffling the hair at the back of his neck when he pulls back and surveys the scene once again. “What are you two up to?” he asked suspiciously. “Where's everybody else?”

“We’re here,” Dan announces as he leads the trail of Louis’ younger siblings up the front steps. “We went out to the park. We _were_ going to take you with us, but apparently Harry couldn't get you to wake up.”

It isn't strictly true. Louis _had_ been woken up, and had spent a few very _exciting_ minutes in bed with his boyfriend, but wound up even sleepier than before. So truthfully, Harry just hadn't been able to get him _out of bed._

Not that he was going to share that with his family. “Ah, yeah, bit of a heavy sleeper,” he explained with a laugh that was only slightly sketchy. “Too used to college life I guess.” Harry smirks into his mug and doesn't say a word, much to Louis’ relief. His mother is smirking too, which just cranks up Louis’ nerves a notch higher than they were before. “What are you two out here getting so cozy about?” he asks suspiciously. “I feel like I walked into the middle of a conversation I wasn't supposed to hear.”

Johanna jumps in before Harry can even think about replying. “Don't be so nosy, Louis,” she says haughtily. “Can't a mum have tea with her future son-in-law without being interrogated?”

“Mum, stop saying that,” Louis groans. “Why does everyone feel the need to incessantly talk about us getting married?”

“Because everyone knows it's going to happen,” snorts Dan.

“Well. That's fair. But why is everyone always asking when I'm going to pop the question? Pressure’s on and all that.”

“Probably because we've been together for three years,” Harry says slyly, looking up at Louis through his eyelashes.

It’s one of the things that Louis is most proud of, but he can't let himself get all fond now. He only smiles a tiny bit as he sasses back, “Well alright then, Harry, you go on and pop the question then, if you're so antsy.”

Harry's grin, on the other hand, is absolutely unabashed. “Okay.”

“Wait, what?”

Harry stands from the little wicker armchair he's been curled up in and digs a hand into the little pocket on his jeans normally used for change. It isn't money that he pulls out though. Louis can see, in the center of one big, soft, palm, shimmering in the midmorning light, a simple silver band with tiny diamonds along the top.

It takes him a few seconds for his brain to catch up to his eyes, but when it does, the world feels like it might stop turning for just a second.

“Harry,” he says shakily as the younger boy grins at him and his mother claps a hand over her mouth. “Is that-?”

“I was planning on taking you out to dinner tonight, and doing it all properly and whatnot, but I suppose I should've known that you’d want it to be a family affair. No better time than the present, right?”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Louis can't find any other words to say. Harry's doing that thing that only he can do, where he makes every thought fall away and everything gets beautifully quiet.

“What's going on?” Daisy asks, tugging on Dan’s sleeve.

“Shhh,” Lottie interjects. “It's finally happening!”

“I didn't really have a speech or anything,” Harry says with a little laugh, and for the first time Louis notices that he's just as nervous is Louis is. “You'd probably do a better job of it. You're always so eloquent. And dramatic.”

“I completely don't even care,” Louis fumbles to say. Nothing could be truer. He's just caught between looking at the ring, looking at the love of his life, and trying to breathe.

“Right. Well, there's nothing I could say to you right now that I haven't already said, because you're the most important person in my entire life and I’ve trusted you with everything, and I've told you everything, and you already know that I wouldn't be here or be the person that I am if it weren't for you.” Harry stops his babble and swallows, looking into Louis’ eyes and taking a deep breath.

“And I'd like to think that I've done the same for you, or that I’ve at least improved your life in a way that’s, like, half as significant that's the way you’ve improved mine. Because when I look at you and all that you've done for me, all I can think is that the only thing I need in this world to be happier than I already am is to get to call you mine for the rest of my life by some crazy miracle.”

His mom is probably crying, because Louis thinks that he can hear little sniffles from off to the side, but he can't tear his eyes away from Harry. He’s moving to kneel before him with that little ring still clutched in one trembling palm. “I need you just as much as you need me, you know that. That's truth,” Louis mumbles, because at this point it’s habit.

“Still keeping me in line, all these years later,” Harry smiles in between bites at his lower lip. “It’s good though. I like it. I kind of want you to keep doing it forever, if that's okay.”

“Couldn't stop me if you tried,” Louis answers, and it's only half a sob.

“I guess what I'm trying to ask, is that even though this speech doesn't really make a lot of sense and you're in your pajamas, and this is nothing like I ever pictured it, I'd really like to know if you would marry me and let me the happiest-- let me _continue_ being the happiest man in the entire world.”

It takes a few seconds for Louis to get the breath to gasp out, “Yes, fuck, yes!” but not long enough for Harry to ever doubt what his answer would be. It's always been this, since the very start, always just a series events leading up to this moment, because sometimes the world offers you lemons, but sometimes it offers you a sad boy in the diner and a rainbow cookie and an opportunity to have forever.

And after all, Louis ponders as he lets Harry pick him up and wraps his legs around Harry's waist so that he can kiss his brand new fiancé harder than he ever has before, you just can't mess with fate.

…………………

Harry and Louis sit side by side on the curb outside the pub, watching together as the sky starts to get pink with dawn. They’ve been sitting there for hours, since the pub closed down late last night, legs tangled together and voices going from boisterous to soft as the alcohol slowly worked its way from their blood.

They’d barely made it a few hours into the engagement before their excitement had burst and they’d left Louis’ mum’s house to go pick out their wedding rings, simple silver bands now tucked in Louis’ pocket. There’s an engagement ring on Harry’s finger too now that Louis had insisted on, the single-diamond beauty Louis had always planned on buying for him. Then they’d stopped in a pub for a drink, and then a few more drinks, and now they’re sitting contentedly on the edge of the street sobering up and taking turns whispering _I love you_ and _we’re going to get married._

“Can I take your last name?” Harry muses gently. There’s a little bird hopping along down the quiet street, pecking at crumbs in the morning light.

Louis looks over at him with a grin that’s no small part wonderous. “Fuck yeah,” he breathes. “Are- are you sure? We could hyphenate or something if you’d rather--”

“I’m sure, truth,” Harry answers with a shake of his head. “I wanna share a name with you. So we can be the Whatevers. Like a proper couple. And we can’t do Styles, because Louis Styles sounds like you’re saying Louise.”

He giggles a little and Louis tries the name out for himself, snickering when he realizes how right Harry is. Louis leans over and nuzzles against Harry’s shoulder very gently. “I’d still do it,” he says pensively. “If you wanted me to take your name. I’d be Louise for you.”

“I like you more as Louis.” There’s still a pleased blush on his face as he looks over at his fiancé. “Harry and Louis Tomlinson. The Tomlinsons.”

“I can’t fucking wait to marry you,” Louis blurts out, because it feels like the words are going to explode from his chest if he tries to hold them in for another second. “Didn’t know it was so bloody important to me, but now we’ve got wedding rings and I just want to call you my husband already.”

Harry’s eyes are more than a little misty when Louis kisses him, but he tries to shrug it off with a playful smile. “Courthouse will be open soon. Could get married today. No more waiting.”

Louis just throws his head back and laughs. “Right, because that’s not crazy.”

But when he looks back over at Harry, Harry isn’t laughing. He’s chewing his lip and looking at Louis with a kind of passionate contentment-- which shouldn’t make sense except that Louis knows just the sensation. “Not _so_ crazy,” Harry says quietly. “We love each other. We want to be married. What’s stopping us?”

There are reasons. Louis _knows_ there are reasons, probably good reasons, about families and friends and propriety and tradition and all of that. He knows that there are reasons that they shouldn’t get married in secret one morning when they’re still a little tipsy and there’s not even a tan line under their engagement rings, but when he looks at Harry all he sees is a man he loves and a thousand reasons why he shouldn’t wait another moment longer.

“I’ll call a cab,” he whispers, but it takes a long minute before Harry stops kissing him long enough for him to make the call.

They have exactly one picture from their wedding in the clerk’s office, a snapshot of them with their hands clasped, leaning into their first kiss as husbands with beaming smiles on their faces. The bleary-eyed filing assistant hands back Louis’ phone and he promptly decides that this is the most beautiful picture he’s ever seen, possibly that’s ever been taken.

Breakfast is already on by the time they make their way back to Louis’ house, a buzz of activity as usual. No one questions why they’re only just now getting back, nor do they seem to notice the wedding rings on the fingers of both smirking men. Harry looks like he’s going to burst with the news, so when Joanna asks whether they’d like the card of her friend the wedding planner, Louis is merciful and answers, “No thanks mum, already taken care of.” When he wiggles his wedding ring at her she shrieks and drops her mug of tea, but the smile on Harry’s face is worth it.

Everyone is in equal parts put out that Harry and Louis have gone off and gotten married without them and _completely unsurprised._ “Couldn’t help it,” Harry mumbles when Zayn cuffs him in the back of the head. “Just wanted him to be mine.” And after all, no one can hold _that_ against him.

They take the name of Jo’s friend though, and bit by bit plan a wedding in the spring. It’s bigger than Louis ever envisioned his wedding being, but he’s an expert in Harry Tomlinson and he can see the pinkened cheeks that mean this extravagant affair they’re planning is everything he’s always dreamed of. And if it’s Harry’s dream, it’s Louis’ job to make it come true.

“You’re not gonna be a bridezilla, are you?” he teases Harry as the boy agonizes over the decision of exactly _which_ shade of gold ribbon will match the emerald napkins. “Kick Zayn out of your wedding for not complying to your demands?”

“Hey, if he says anything bad about my dress he has to go,” Harry teases right back, then cranes his head back to look up at Louis where he’s standing behind Harry’s chair. “Just kidding. No dress for me. I know you’re more into husbands than wives.”

“That’s true enough,” Louis says with a grin. He leans down and gives Harry a sweet, upside-down kiss, spiderman style. “I’d marry you no matter what you came down the aisle in, though. I married you in sweatpants the first time, after all.”

They’re already married, Louis keeps reminding himself as he walks down the aisle behind all of their wedding party and takes his place at the altar to wait for Harry to do the same. They’re already married, so there’s no reason for his stomach to be lit up with hundreds of tiny butterflies. Harry is already his, has been his for years and years. His heart doesn’t need to beat out of his chest.

It does though, and then skips a beat when Harry rounds the corner and comes down the aisle in a dashing tuxedo-- and a veil tucked into his curls.

There’s a cheeky grin on Harry’s face and Louis can’t help the laugh that bubbles forth from his chest as he beams across the sea of familiar faces and locks eyes with Harry. _That’s him,_ Louis thinks as Harry walks towards him. _That’s the man I love. That’s the man I married. That’s the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving._

(If they piss off the officiant by winding up snogging halfway through the ceremony, neither is to be blamed. They’re fools in love, and after all, it’s their wedding day. Sort of.)

Hours later, when the reception is winding down and only a few devoted stragglers remain, Harry and Louis can still be found on the dance floor, holding each other close and swaying to every song. Ed’s voice starts crooning from the speakers, the single he’s just released on his way to being a proper world-famous popstar. It’s one that Louis snuck into the playlist at the last minute, and he feels a smile come over his face as he tucks his head into Harry’s shoulder and breathes him in deep.

_Darling I will be loving you ‘til we’re seventy. And baby my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three. I’m thinkin’ bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand. Me, I fall in love with you every single day, and I just want to tell you I am._

Harry makes a pleased noise deep in his chest and clutches Louis a little tighter, that smooth, deep voice crooning along with the music. _“So honey now, take me into your loving arms, kiss me under the light of a thousand stars, oh darling, place your head on my beating heart. I’m thinking out loud.”_

Louis just lets his lips rest at the base of Harry’s neck and hums along. _Maybe we found love right where we are…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more timestamp, involving something tiny and pink. If you think that summary couldn't be any vaguer, you're right. Then comes Ziall companion fic!
> 
> canonlarry | tumblr


	6. Sammie

“I can’t,” Harry insisted breathlessly. “I- Louis, you go. I can’t.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Haz,” Louis grinned. “Of course you can. We’ve been over this a million times-”

Harry was having none of that. “I absolutely can’t,” he said once more. “Look how tiny she is! I’m going to break her, Louis, I know I will.”

It’s been seven years and a fuckton of body alterations since Louis first saw Harry in that shitty little diner, eating those cold fries and needing someone to care for him, but sometimes he still has to take that stern little tone with his husband. “Harry, love. Who has a more accurate view of this situation, you as the person experiencing the fear or me as the calm observer?”

“You.”

“And if I say that the risk of you dropping her is very extremely minimal, how likely am I to be right?”

“Very extremely,” Harry mumbles back.

“And how much do I love and trust you?”

“Enough to adopt a baby with me.” And there’s a smile, a little one but with dimples.

“Trust me, I would accept nothing less than the finest cut of humanity to be allowed to raise my children with me,” Louis says haughtily. “I’ve actually spent the last sixish years interviewing all the eligible males in London, and you’re the top candidate. Literally dad of the year.”

“Should that be my next tattoo, then?”

“That could be cute,” nods Louis. “But I think in order to qualify for the title you have to actually hold your newborn daughter.”

Harry smiles, because he’s nervous and his hands are sweaty but he trusts Louis more than he trusts the sun to rise in the morning and set at the end of the day. He wipes his hands on his jeans and holds them out to Louis. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He isn’t, though, because he’s been looking at that girl for the last hour and adoring her already and that’s one thing, but now she’s actually in his arms and he can feel the weight of her against his chest and it’s funny, because he thought that he would only ever fall in love with Louis. But here’s this baby girl, here’s his daughter, and he thinks he might be head over heels.

“She’s incredible,” Harry whispers, like Louis doesn’t already know that. “Look at that tiny little nose. Her tiny mouth. Her tiny… everything. Oh my god.”

“She’s two hours old, of course she’s tiny.” Louis doesn’t even have to distract him so he can sneak a picture of this moment on his phone. This sap he’s married is too busy making heart eyes at their baby.

“A whole tiny little human, right here in my arms. Can you believe it, Lou? She’s a tiny little human being, just like you and me. Someday she’s gonna grow up and fall in love with someone and drive a car and like, cure cancer or something.”

“Only the best for Sammie Tomlinson,” Louis agrees without reservation.

But Harry is still shaking a little with the gravity of it all. “We’re parents, Lou.”

“Yes, baby.”

“You and me. The English teacher and the therapist, a gay couple with too many tattoos, starting a family. This poor little angel,” he grins, and for the first time since he’s held her he can tear his eyes away to look back over at his husband.

The kohl around those wise, blue eyes is smudged from all of the tears, but he’s still so gorgeous and kind and absolutely Harry’s soulmate that Harry thinks he could just melt into a puddle of happiness. “Can you kiss me, Lou?” he asks, and as Louis leans in to give him what he needs, Sammie stirs between them with a sleepy little yawn.

“We should probably put her back in the basket,” Louis whispers. “She’s had a rough day, she probably just wants some sleep.”

“She can sleep on me,” is Harry’s instant reply. “It’s okay.”

“Babe, you don’t have to hold her the entire time. She’s already asleep, so if you lay her down she’ll be fine-”

“She’s fine right here with her Dada.”

Louis looks at this absolute softie idiot of a husband and knows that he probably has a whole list of reasons why he gets to hold on some more, perfectly good reasons about attachment and bonding and body warmth and whatever else he read in those stupid parenting books he’s been hoarding. He doesn’t make Harry give them, though, just nods and leads him over to the little couch in the nursery so that Papa and Dada and Sammie can get all tangled up there together like they will for the next- well, for as long as that little girl will let them.

“I love you,” Louis whispers, and he isn’t positive who he’s talking to.

Harry gets it, because of course he does. “We love you, too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna need to be euthanized before they have kids forreal these 822 words almost did me in I'm not strong enough for the real deal
> 
> SO there you have it, the last GMT time stamp! There is a Ziall companion piece coming soon which I hope you'll enjoy, and hopefully these little pieces of future have warmed your heart just a smidge. Thank you all for coming along for another wild ride with me <3
> 
> Canonlarry | tumblr


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